


For All Eternity

by TheAsexualofSpades



Series: Quarantine Drabbles [143]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Arthur Knows About Merlin's Magic (Merlin), Arthur Pendragon Returns (Merlin), Banter, Dorks in Love, Fluff, Gen, Idiots in Love, Leon is still the only braincell, M/M, Post-Episode: s05e13 The Diamond of the Day, Sir Leon the Long Suffering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-14
Updated: 2020-08-14
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:15:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25898041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheAsexualofSpades/pseuds/TheAsexualofSpades
Summary: They've had time to reflect, time to think. Now it's time to talk.As it turns out, a lot of things are much funnier after 1500 years.
Relationships: Leon & Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Leon & Merlin (Merlin), Merlin & Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Series: Quarantine Drabbles [143]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1677655
Comments: 16
Kudos: 366





	For All Eternity

**Author's Note:**

> i love them and god we stan leon in this house

Fandom: Merlin (BBC)

Prompt: amazingg, do you think we could get a third piece with merlin, arhtur and leon exchanging pains over a fire or just some random modern day shinanigans? - biittersweets

* * *

“Do you remember the troll?”

Arthur laughs. Merlin buries his head in his hands and shakes it slowly back and forth.

“Oh my god, part of me hoped it was a nightmare.”

“Believe me,” Leon mutters, “me too.”

They’re sitting around Merlin’s living room, Arthur and Merlin on the couch and Leon in the overstuffed armchair. There are already half a dozen mugs cooling on the coffee table, another in each of their hands. Leaning back, Leon sighs as he sinks into the soft chair.

He wasn’t exaggerating when he said he ran here.

Merlin had called in the middle of the day, breathless and panting and Leon had instantly shot to his feet, worried he had to talk him down over the phone again, only for his eyes to widen when Merlin wouldn’t stop repeating two words.

“He’s back, he’s back, he’s _back._ ”

There was only one person Merlin could’ve possibly been talking about.

Leon hadn’t bothered to get behind the wheel. One should never drive when they are in a state of emotional distress. Learning the king that died 1500 years ago was back from the dead puts on into a state of emotional distress.

So he ran.

He grabbed his keys and his wallet and his phone, shoved them into his large pockets—really, they were such _large_ pockets, why did not every item of clothing have such large pockets?—and barely locked his door, tearing across the city. More than a few passers-by had watched him curiously but he hadn’t cared. All he cared about was rushing up the stairs to Merlin’s apartment and gathering himself enough to knock _politely_ on the door, not bang it down.

The few seconds it had taken Merlin to get to the door felt like another 1500 years.

Merlin had swung the door open, his eyes rimmed red and swollen and his smile blinding.

“…Merlin?”

Merlin had rushed forward, wrapping Leon in a hug so tight Leon’s breath caught in his throat.

“Oh, _Merlin…”_

Leon had clung back. After so many years, after _so much,_ the wait was over. It was over and they could breathe again. Privately, Leon’s glad Merlin’s the one who got to find him. Not because he too wasn’t anxious to see his King, but he’s not Merlin.

Merlin loved Arthur with every fiber of his being, any person with eyes could see it. Their love transcended all the petty ballads the bards would sing, it has survived death and time. ‘Till death do us part’ didn’t really apply in this situation, now, did it? It _has_ been 1500 years.

“Merlin?” Leon tapped his shoulder lightly.

Merlin sprung back, grabbed Leon’s hand, and yanked him inside.

“There you are, who was at the…”

There he was, in all his glory. Leon had to resist the urge to drop to his knee, at the sight of his king after so long. But he restrained himself to a polite smile, the offering of a hand for a handshake.

But Arthur wasn’t nearly as apprehensive.

No, the man had surged forward with an enthusiasm that almost bowled Leon over, sending them staggering into the nearest wall. Arthur’s nose had mashed uncomfortably into Leon’s shoulder and he had been fairly certain ribs weren’t supposed to make that noise.

Merlin had chuckled, said Arthur was really happy to see him too.

Leon hadn’t been able to help himself; he’d run his hands over Arthur’s shoulders, down his arms, across his back, just feeling him alive, alive, _alive._ Arthur had been wearing one of Merlin’s large hoodies, in wonderful Pendragon red.

Arthur had stood there without complaint, letting Leon fuss over him until he came to his senses and coughed awkwardly.

“Sire.”

Arthur had laughed. “I haven’t been a king for 1500 years, Leon.”

“You will always be my King, sire.”

Simply shaking his head fondly, Arthur had rested his hands on Leon’s shoulders, looking up at the tall knight who…wasn’t a knight anymore.

“Thank you, Leon,” he had murmured, “for everything you’ve done.”

“Here here.”

Leon had coughed awkwardly. “That’s my job, isn’t it?”

“Hasn’t been your job for 1500 years!”

Leon had simply looked at Merlin and raised an eyebrow.

“…yeah, alright, fair enough.”

“I mean it,” Arthur had said quietly when Merlin had gone to fetch tea, “I’ve been watching. Thank you, old friend, for all that you’ve done for Merlin.”

Ah. Leon looked at Arthur with a different expression. One that spoke volumes about how _much_ that 1500 years weighs on Merlin. One that demanded Arthur make good on his return. One that promised to be there for _Merlin,_ first and foremost.

Arthur’s answering nod had been enough to make Leon smile.

By then Merlin had come back with tea and Leon had been more than ready to collapse into a chair with a warm drink. He’d taken a sip and let his head fall back.

“Did you _run_ here?” Merlin had pulled Arthur onto the couch next to him.

“You called and just said ‘he’s back,’ Merlin, _yes_ I ran here.”

Then, of course, they had started talking about all the times instant communication would’ve been immeasurably helpful.

“Or, you know, simply _any_ communication.”

“He’s been telling me this for 1500 years.”

“Oh, I know. I’ve seen.”

“Then I implore you two, don’t make the same mistake twice.”

“What, you mean like Uther not learning his lesson about welcoming strange people into court?”

It had quickly dissolved from there into reminiscing about Camelot. Leon had been there from the very beginning, had been shaking his head in disbelief since Uther appointed Merlin as Arthur’s manservant.

“No, no,” Leon mutters, “the troll was definitely real. I had to try and explain to Uther that having Bayard of Mercia come to visit was a bad idea when the Queen was sitting on a heap of dung and devouring rotten fruit.”

“You remember the wedding?”

“You mean when my plan _worked?_ ” Merlin takes a triumphant sip of his tea. “Gaius and I switched out her potion for one that wasn’t magical and her disguise wore off.”

“Yes, I will never forget that,” Arthur groaned, “nor will I forget Morgana’s face when she ripped the door off its hinges.”

Ah, yes.

Morgana.

Leon’s head drops slowly to his chest. “…I do not wish to open old wounds before we are ready to, but…”

“It’s been 1500 years,” Merlin says softly, “if we don’t do it now, we might never.”

So they talk.

They talk about what they miss the most. Merlin speaks about Gaius, about having someone older than him, someone who took care of _him_ and not the other way around.

Leon speaks about the knights, his brothers, the men who he would’ve been happy to die beside.

Arthur speaks about Gwen. About someone who he cared for deeply, who was the Queen he needed.

They all pause before hesitantly speaking about Morgana.

Arthur talks about the sister he never got to know, the warrior he wished he would never have had to face, and the sorceress he wished he could’ve helped.

Leon talks about the noblewoman who fought for the people, the ruler that drenched the crown in blood, and the lonely soul that lost everything.

Merlin talks about a person out of reach, an ally he was too cowardly to form, and a weapon he helped to forge.

They all speak about what they wish they could’ve done differently.

Leon pushes himself to his feet, goes to Merlin’s liquor cabinet, and retrieves something stronger. They raise a glass to the people they have lost.

“…do you know,” Merlin says after setting his glass aside, “I don’t really know what to do now.”

“There’s a surprise,” Arthur teases fondly, reaching out to tuck Merlin’s hair aside.

“No, you prat,” Merlin says, swatting Arthur half-heartedly, “I mean, I’ve…I’ve just been…waiting. I don’t know what to do now.”

“Well, it doesn’t help that there’s no disaster,” Leon says, “does it?”

When both of them look at him like he'd grown another head, he shrugs.

“We always thought it would be some…apocalypse that would make you return,” he explains, “‘when Albion’s need is greatest.’ But you rose for Merlin. There’s no big evil force to fight or defeat.”

Arthur squints at him. “Why were _you_ not the person we went to for help all the time?”

“Because you two were too busy teaching each other ‘poetry.’”

Arthur throws his head back and groans as Merlin cackles. Leon just shakes his head slowly back and forth.

“Honestly, you two were _ridiculous._ ”

“Oh, what, like _you_ can talk!” Merlin points an accusing finger at Leon. “Gaius and Gwen _told_ me what you said when I came looking for a crossbow.”

“Wait, what did he say?”

“Merlin came looking for a crossbow, I asked him if the one I gave him would work nicely, he said it would do the job.”

“Then Leon asked what the job was—“

“And he said it was killing you.”

“And _then,_ ” Merlin sniffs, “apparently, _you_ said—“

“You can’t threaten me with things I have already said,” Leon says, “and I can say it again. I asked if he was driving you mad and you said ‘not for much longer.’”

“And _you_ laughed!”

“You were the _worst_ assassin I have ever seen,” Leon remarks, “and, really, Merlin, you _have_ noticed that your sense of humor revolves around getting rid of Arthur an awful lot, right?”

“Speaking of which, why _was_ that?” Arthur pokes Merlin’s shoulder. “And why did _you_ lot let him get away with it?”

Leon just stares at him. “You _do_ know you had the air of a jealous lover every _single_ time one of us got _close_ to Merlin, right?”

Arthur’s face turns bright pink. “I most certainly did _not._ ”

“Oh, yes you did,” Leon says. “There’s a reason why Gwaine rode right next to Merlin for a while _and_ a reason why he stopped.”

Merlin cackles again until Leon turns his gaze on him. “I don’t know why _you’re_ laughing, _you_ weren’t much better!”

Merlin squawks. “I was _not_ acting like a jealous lover!”

“No, Merlin, what _happened_ is this strange peasant boy _no one_ had ever seen before starting bumbling around the Crown Prince of Camelot, talking back to him and not respecting his authority at _all,_ who had no idea what the hell he was doing at any particular time and yet still managed to jump in front of _every. Single. Deadly weapon and spell._ And repeatedly risk his life for someone he used to hate with a passion.”

Leon shakes his head at Merlin. “ _And_ you would spout this random wisdom from absolutely nowhere _and_ would vanish for days on end and show up like nothing ever happened.”

Merlin scratches the back of his head. “I wasn’t _that_ bad.”

Leon sighs. “Merlin, you having magic only explained about a _third_ of all your quirks. Well, that and learning that you didn’t even know where the tavern _was._ ”

“Wait, _what?_ ”

Leon just buries his head in his hands. “You two. Gods above, you’re useless.”

“What do you _mean_ you didn’t know where the tavern was? You spent _days_ in there!”

_How, how can he be so stupid?_

“No, I didn’t! I was off doing magic stuff to save your arse and Gaius can only think of one excuse!”

“Oh, so that’s why you’re still such a lightweight.”

“Oi! I’ve had 1500 years of practice.”

“He’s still a lightweight,” Leon says through his hands.

“ _Leon!_ ”

“Oh, hush, Merlin, I’ve had to drag you out of more pubs than I care to remember.”

Leon shakes his head. “What with how often you hung around _Gwaine_ I thought it would be easy to tell you _not_ to overdrink.”

“The _point,_ ” Merlin says hastily, “is that yes, I have magic and I had to _hide that_ so I came off a little weird.”

“Just a tad.”

“Dunno why _you_ lot jumped on the wagon so quickly,” Arthur mutters, looking at Leon, “I swear, you all were more loyal to Merlin than you were to me.”

“Oh come on, Arthur,” Merlin laughs, “it’s not like they had a coup planned if you ever hurt me or anything.”

“No,” Leon drawls, “of _course_ we didn’t. That would be silly.”

He can’t hide his smirk when Arthur’s eyes widen.

“We would never have only _one_ plan.”

“Dear gods,” Arthur mumbles, “my own knights…”

“You _do_ realize we had two choices, right?” Leon gestures to Merlin. “You decided that this _servant_ would be coming on every single patrol and hunting trip and you would throw a tantrum every time he so much as _sniffled—“_

“I did not!”

“Yes, yes you did, Arthur, now shh.” Merlin giggles at Arthur’s affronted face. “So we had to either find a way to keep him from coming, which wasn’t going to work—“

“No, no it wasn’t.”

“—precisely, so we had to make sure someone was watching who was practically your mistress.”

Luckily for both of them, neither Merlin nor Arthur bothered trying to deny it because Leon has enough evidence to fill _several_ libraries and poetry books.

“It started out as more of a jest, but it didn’t stay that way.” Leon’s gaze softens as he looks at Merlin. “You demonstrated loyalty that the finest knights would aspire to, and we were happy to have you by our sides.”

He takes a drink. “Plus, you don’t know how to fight.”

“Ex _cuse_ me?”

“You don’t, Merlin,” Leon says, “you can use magic but you’re useless with a sword.”

“He’s not wrong, you know.”

Merlin swats Arthur again. Arthur retaliates by taking one of the throw pillows and cuffing Merlin upside the head with it. Only for both of them to immediately burst into laughter.

Leon just watches with the air of a bemused naturalist observing some strange new mating ritual.

“No, no, wait,” Merlin gasps out, “we—we’ve got to tell him.”

Arthur wipes at his eyes before looking at Leon who tilts his head patiently. “I—it was during the time with Elena, remember?”

“The young woman with the faerie?”

“Yeah,” Arthur says, still chuckling, “we were in my chambers, talking.”

“And Arthur threw a pillow at me.”

“You said I had bad breath!”

“You did.”

“And appalling table manners!”

“You do.”

“And a bad sense of humor.”

Even Leon nods.

“Oi!”

“But I dodged the pillow and it landed next to the door.”

“Right as my father walked in.”

Leon snorts. Honestly, the idea of Uther Pendragon walking in on the two of them during one of their squabbles…Leon’s felt awkward enough when he happens to pass them in the corridor, he can’t imagine _that._

And yet, as he looks at them, bickering on the couch and yet refusing to move more than a few inches apart, he smiles.

They’ve waited long enough.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Come yell at me on tumblr while we're all in quarantine.
> 
> https://a-small-batch-of-dragons.tumblr.com/


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